Losing Track (Living Heartwood #2)(27)
I can just glimpse the shape of her lips through the material. Imagine her clit…wet from the water…slippery and warm.
My cock starts to throb painfully. Fuck. I’m headed right back to the water when she outs me. “Damn, baby. Is that for me?” She winks, a playful smile pulling at her mouth, and my face heats.
I am a f*cking glutton for punishment. Any other girl would have been a safer choice.
I run a hand through my hair, purposely avoiding looking down at my dick. “I’m a man, not a saint.”
A sly half-smile sneaks onto her face. “Well, it’s about time.” She slinks over, carrying her tee in one hand, her other adjusting her bra strap. She stops inches from me, her bare feet planted near mine. I’m staring down at them instead of her face. “You can look. Look all you want. I have to admit, the shy guy act is kind of turning me on.”
What little blood that’s left in my brain drains right to my cock. A buzz fills my head, making me lightheaded as I slowly move my gaze over her body. Taking in the beads of water on her thighs, her low-riding underwear resting along her hips, the smooth skin of her stomach, the sexy arc of her waist. When I reach her eyes, they’re staring back into mine, tempting me. Daring me.
“I think we’re allowed some fun,” she says, low and sultry.
I’m so dazed by this girl, I can’t grasp the irritating thought knocking in the back of my head. What the hell? She shifted so quickly—from cold to hot. Wanting nothing to do with me to about to jump my bones.
Red warning lights are flashing right in front of me, but that’s not enough to keep me from needing to touch her. To taste her. Only she does it first.
She presses her damp body up against mine, her curves molding to all the right places. Her breasts push against my abs. Her warm stomach grazes my cock. She’s so petite she should fit wrong, but she’s damn perfect. I can feel her shivering, the slight breeze causing chill bumps to form on her arms as she raises them to link around my shoulders.
Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she bites down, sending a thrill through my nervous system. She slides one of her legs between mine, the top of her thigh glides along the shaft of my dick, and without conscious thought, I wrap my arms around her and cup her ass. Bringing her flush against me.
I lean down and whisper, “You know what you’re doing?”
Her quick laugh spikes my blood. “And then some.”
My eyes squeeze closed, and my hands ball into fists, gripping the thin material barely covering her ass. I can feel her smile as she inches onto her toes and runs her soft lips over my neck. Her tongue lightly caresses below my ear, and I’m about to come out of my skin.
It’s been too damn long since I was this close to someone. Physically. Sexually. And I’m pushing every excuse not to throw her down right now and f*ck her out of my head. She wants it, doesn’t matter what it is. Casual or what. And I want to give it to her…
She reaches down and grabs me. Wraps her fingers around my cock. Grips tightly, slides her palm up and down. I release a shaky breath as she presses herself against the head. Fuck. It feels so f*cking good…but when she slips her fingers between the slit of my boxers and strokes me with no barrier, skin to skin, the sensation almost makes me release right here.
“Come on,” she says. “Give me a buzz I can get away with.”
My eyes fly open. I can feel my facial muscles go from slack to tense. She sees the change in my features, and pulls away a fraction. I grasp her wrists and bring her hands between us.
“We should get back,” I say, hating myself as I hear the words leave my mouth.
“Right.” She nods once, hard. “Because…?”
A huff of air whooshes from between my lips in a rush. “I’m not going to be your escape, Mel. Your quick buzz to take the edge off.” She moves farther out of my reach and wraps her arms around herself. “I don’t think it’s what you need, and I’d be a f*cking * to take advantage of you that way.”
Her brows shoot up. “Take advantage? Hey, guy, I’m sober. Last I checked, I was of consenting age, too. Clear and free to choose who and when I f*cked.” She laughs. “I’m not asking for commitment, dude. And I sure as hell don’t want anything serious from you, so don’t worry yourself over that. Taking advantage,” she mutters, shakes her head. Turns toward the bike, stops. Swings around back toward me. “You know what, who the hell died and made you f*cking Gandhi?”
My head jerks back. “What?”
She talks fast, furiously, as she pulls her Ramone’s tee over her head. “You’re always spouting off about shit you think you know. Oh, you’re recovered, so you have to share your junkie wisdom with the rest of the world. That does not make you an expert.” She gets her head through the collar and glares at me. “I see the way the staff at Stoney treats you. They think you’re the second coming of Buddha. But I also see all that bullshit you got going on underneath. You’re full of it. And you’re going to try to make me feel cheap? Or like I’m some kind of crack whore because I want to get laid?” She flips me off. “I’ll walk back. Thanks.”
“Whoa…” I chase after her. I did not see this coming. “Melody, wait.” I head her off before she’s past my bike. “I wasn’t trying to offend you…or hell, I’m not rejecting you.” Wrong. Fucking. Word. Her eyes spear me. “It’s not you, it’s me—”